


Five times

by kwunkwun



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst, Family, Gangsters, Gen, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwunkwun/pseuds/kwunkwun
Summary: Secrets could be dressed in smiles and dates where they talked about nothing, but Iwai wanted someone to trust –he really did.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Five drabbles about Iwai Munehisa from Persona 5, now that his S. Link has been leaked. I just love this guy too much. I want to hold him tight and sob forever... note: this is not following full canon because I didn't have all the info before writing this

1.

  
“Oi. And where’d you think you’re going?”

  
His eyes were glazed with alcohol and old sweat stained the open collar of his boilersuit. Munehisa knew his old man didn’t drink. He was a lightweight. Whatever happened must have fucked him over enough for him to get smashed before coming home. And Munehisa knew why –his grades, his absences, his fighting, and then those modified BB guns (which he personally thought were pretty damn cool) he was selling to fellow students at a decent profit margin of 18.5%.

  
Things were only going to get better, because an upperclassman he had ripped off on many occasions had promised to hook him up with guys who had access to the real deal. Authentic weapons and fast cash, the guy said. He didn’t want to make ‘honest money’ like his dad. Work himself to the bone but still have bills pile up like putrid socks. There was no such thing as honest money anyway.

  
The night was setting in, cold and heavy like gunmetal. Munehisa smelled the old man’s sweat and felt the strap of his stuffed backpack cut into his shoulder. His hand was clammy on the doorknob and the resolve on his face was as determined as a sixteen year old with no long-term goal could manage.

  
“I’m goin’ to a sleepover at a friend’s place.”

 

2.

  
Tsuda was a couple of years older than him. In the group, Munehisa was the tactician and Tsuda was the catalyst for all the shit they got themselves in. Sure, the boss gave them jobs, but the ‘how’s of the operation always had room for interpretation. Their target, a small law firm by the name of Sakaki Lawyers, wasn’t due to open for another three hours. That gave them ample time to ‘mess things up’ as per the instructions. Tsuda had the bat, Fukuyama and Okamoto the spray paint. Munehisa, crouched at the back door, picked at the lock with a pin as the gang kept watch.

  
They snuck through the dark corridor once they were in, and took what they could –Mont Blanc pens, whatever small sculpture that looked expensive, a respectable amount of cash from the drawers. Tsuda smacked Okamoto on the head when he tried to take a painting off a wall, and they all dissolved into a momentary bout of silent laughter. Once they were out with backpacks and pockets full, Munehisa stood back and let the guys do the smashing.

  
On the following morning when the boss asked them whether they stayed out of the building as instructed, their ‘yes, boss’ was unanimous and grave.

 

3.

  
A couple more minutes and he might just meld right into the rickety chair to which he was bound. The clock on the wall was yellow with age, and each laboured tick of the second hand pushed him closer and closer to throwing a bitch fit. Focusing on anger really helped soften the pain of bruised ribs, a broken finger and open cuts (they couldn’t have used a blunter knife), but the guy keeping watch looked like he was dying to go take a leak so it was time to focus.

  
“Hey. Hey, you.” He sounded like he’d swallowed a sandpit but it did the job –baldy got up and spat a ‘whatddya want’ right in his face.

  
“I’ll tell you where my boss kept the documents, but it’ll just be between you and me, okay?” Iwai said in a hush. “Come closer, my lungs are kinda fucked.”

  
“If you’re screwin’ round I’m –

  
He really did come closer. Iwai pushed off the ground as if to attack, and as expected the gangster pulled back to smack him across the head. Letting himself move in the direction of the punch masked the act of losing balance, and he clattered to the floor, chair and all, grunting from the pain that shot through his body.

  
“Fucking bastard!”

  
Thankfully the gangster only kicked him once before the exercise proved to be too much, and he staggered off to the bathroom with strings of swearwords flying from his mouth. His position made it that much easier for him fold in his knees and lift his arms free of the chair back. After that, he toed off his sneakers and slipped his ankles free of the bonds.

  
When baldy came back, he’d find his keys, motorbike and captive missing.

 

4.

  
Her name was Mai, and her plump lips always tasted like peach gummies. They held hands as they walked through a dimly lit Yoyogi Park, shoes kicking idly through the golden foliage that blanketed the path. She had her hair trimmed to a smart bob because he apparently said once that he liked that on girls, when really, it was just because everyone was doing it this season. Of course, that didn’t stop Iwai from reaching over to tuck a loose strand of her freshly ‘autumn cappuccino’ dyed hair behind her ear.

  
Everything was so fashionable and picture-perfect: his clothes, her make up, the distant city noises and the aftertaste of overpriced crepes in their mouths. Secrets could be dressed in smiles and dates where they talked about nothing, but Iwai wanted someone to trust –he really did.  
That night, she brought a soft hand to his neck and started to trace the outline of the gecko that was etched there. He lifted his head from the pillow to smile, and the bed sheets whispered against their bare skin.

  
“What’s the story behind this? I’ve been meaning to ask,” she murmured.

  
“I got really drunk and lost a bet,” he chuckled.

  
Iwai didn’t know how, but she saw through it. He could tell from her eyes.

 

5.

  
Kaoru’s suitcase weighed a ton, because the goody-two-shoes insisted on having his textbooks with him so he could study through the long trip. Iwai could almost hear his arm protest when he readjusted his grip.

  
A soft ‘oh’ escaped from Kaoru’s lips when they caught a glimpse of a cat flitting across the street. Iwai couldn’t help the fond smile that slipped onto his face when the kid looked up at him, saying, “it’s that same one we saw at 7/11 half an hour ago, dad. I’m sure of it.”

  
His old family home hadn’t changed, save the fresh lick of paint on the front door. Seeing his old man again, grey about the temples, wearing an actually nice sweater, haggard but genuinely happy, Iwai didn’t know how to feel.

  
“Kaoru, you’ve grown again haven’t you? You’re almost taller than me, now…”

  
Iwai fought the urge to roll his eyes as the old man reached over to thoroughly mess up Kaoru’s hair. But the kid really was tall for his age. He’d probably be a hit with the girls if he was savvier, but apparently, Kaoru said most of his friends were girls anyway.

  
He felt an anxious touch on his elbow as he set Kaoru’s belongings into his new room. When he turned to meet Kaoru’s gaze, the guilt washed over him, stronger and hotter than fire.

  
“Do you really have to move to Nagoya by yourself? I can come with you. I don’t mind changing schools.”

  
Iwai stepped close to press his hand to Kaoru’s nape. The touch was gentle but protective, and his eyes softened when his thumb grazed the burn scar that curved around his neck in exactly the same way that the gecko wrapped around his own.

  
“It’s an important time in your life, Kaoru. I don’t want to mess it up for you. I’ll come visit as much as I can. I promise.”

  
He pulled him in for a brief embrace. Kaoru really was tall for a twelve year old. He didn’t want to let go.


End file.
